


Silver-Tongued Snake

by EchoesOfOmens



Series: Bangtan Sonyeondan Fanfics [4]
Category: SHINee, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bad Boy Min Yoongi | Suga, Bookworm Kim Namjoon | RM, Cute Kim Taehyung | V, Dancer Jeon Jungkook, Dancer Park Jimin (BTS), F/M, Fuckboy Jeon Jungkook, Fuckboy Park Jimin (BTS), Gen, Grumpy Min Yoongi | Suga, Jeon Jungkook & Park Jimin are Best Friends, Jeon Jungkook is a Little Shit, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope & Min Yoongi | Suga are Best Friends, Kim Namjoon | RM is a Sweetheart, Kim Seokjin | Jin Being a Mom, Kim Seokjin | Jin is a Good Hyung, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin are Best Friends, Kim Taehyung | V is a Little Shit, M/M, Multi, Park Jimin (BTS) Is a Brat, Park Jimin (BTS) is a Tease, Popular Kim Seokjin | Jin, Power Bottom Park Jimin (BTS), Sunshine Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Sweet Kim Namjoon | RM, golden maknae Jungkook
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:26:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoesOfOmens/pseuds/EchoesOfOmens
Summary: I loved the idea of being bribed to try to fuck the Bangtan Boys, so here we are. Mainly, I thought their roles would be switched around a little. Huge credit to exolexact for the concept. Please don't sue me.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Reader, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Reader, Kim Namjoon | RM/Reader, Kim Seokjin | Jin/Reader, Kim Taehyung | V/Reader, Min Yoongi | Suga/Reader, Park Jimin (BTS)/Reader
Series: Bangtan Sonyeondan Fanfics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821091
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Silver-Tongued Snake

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely not Korean, so I apologize in advance for cultural differences. Dumb American writing over here lol

The morning sun was far too hot for your liking. It beat down on you on your way to school, the unforgiving rays creating beads of sweat on your brow. It was altogether warmer in March than it should have been, but you were almost getting used to it by now. 

As you slipped off your outer uniform jacket at your locker and prepared for the day, you were struck by an odd sense of being watched. It made your skin crawl, the kind of cold gaze that made you feel an... _unnatural_ discomfort. 

When you glanced around, however, there was no one there. You'd arrived a little earlier than your classmates, and for good reason. Though smart enough to occupy the top spot in your class, you weren't exactly the most _popular_ of your fellow students.

Trying to shake off the feeling, you opened your locker to stow your coat and grab your books. As you moved your jacket, you felt something fall from your locker and onto the floor at your feet. 

A black envelope, sealed shut with red wax and cord. You stooped to pick it up, the hairs on the back of your neck tingling with apprehension. Who would leave something like _this_ for **you?**

At first, you were loath to open it; after all, it screamed either sabotage or blackmail. But, curiosity getting the better of you, you found yourself delicately peeling the wax seal and opening the envelope, consequences be damned. 

A single slip of black paper was inside, thin rice paper of fine quality. The handwriting looked like perfect calligraphy, written in lovely gold Hangul. 

> _I know who you are and what you do._
> 
> _Meet me in the abandoned classroom on the third floor at lunchtime._
> 
> _I have an offer for you._

Simple and ominous, it was unsigned. The only identifying mark was a small embossed seal at the bottom, a black rose that was barely visible against the paper unless held to the light. You thought perhaps it was a joke, but you couldn't be certain. You doubted any of your enemies had the intelligence to concoct something like this, but all that left you with was a dangerous question mark. 

One of the first bells rang, signaling that people should be at their lockers and they had ten minutes until the first warning bell. You quickly stashed the note and grabbed your bag, shutting your locker and leaving the locker room to head to your first class. 

You always loved being early to your first class. It was the only one that you shared with upperclassmen, and the only class that you felt _really_ at home in. The professor was old and kind, but with a mind as sharp as a whip. You always enjoyed his lessons. 

You settled into your seat in the back, expertly arraying your supplies as you waited for the professor to enter. He arrived precisely two minutes before class started, so you had a decent amount of quiet time to yourself. These were the moments you cherished, before real life had to come knocking down your carefully-built wall. 

Because, after all, you were the outcast. 

Not that you truly _cared_ , of course. People paid you for sex and you were making _damn_ good money at it. Probably more than most of the plebeians at this school could ever _dream_ about. 

Speaking of dreams, however, you began to wonder about the note in your locker. Whoever had left it knew exactly who you were, in every sense of the word. This worried you for a few reasons; first, very few people actually _knew_ the nature of your work, and they had to find out through your other customers. Second, your customers were loyal. Not pure loyalty, as you had leverage on all of them, but it was still something to be noted. Which meant _somewhere_ in your web, there was a loose thread. Lastly, you were concerned because you had no idea what to expect. Who would be waiting for you in that room? What would they want? Too many questions hung in the air for you to be able to feel entirely at ease with it... 

You carried these thoughts even as the upperclassmen began to trickle in. You noted the three Kims, who had been stars of the class since the beginning. There were also a few notable female students, older and wiser than you, as well as some interspersed allies in the mix. One of your only friends shared this class with you, but he never sat with you. 

You were quite content with this arrangement. It was bad for both of your images to be seen sitting together in class. 

He was the popular gossip, the one who knew everyone and everything at any given time. A social butterfly, he couldn't take any tarnishing of his sterling reputation. Which, coincidentally, was why he kept your meetings in the library where no one saw you. 

Your classes whizzed by throughout the rest of the day, your mind on other things. Finally, it was lunchtime, and you headed straight for the third floor. You discreetly entered the abandoned classroom when no one else was looking, shutting the door behind you. The lights were all but off, with only one row of dim lights on at the front of the classroom where the teacher would supposedly sit. You cast your eyes around the dusty room, dark and dank with disuse. Apparently, you were the first one here. 

You clicked your tongue in irritation, hoping that they wouldn't give you long to wait. With a resigned huff, you dropped onto a desk, starting to tuck into your lunch while you waited. You only needed to wait a few minutes before the door clicked open once more, swinging shut behind a girl that you were unfamiliar with. 

She was tall, with a blocky figure and unassuming face. Pretty enough, but nothing extraordinary. Her makeup was tasteful and probably as expensive as the light cologne she wore. Her bangs were immaculately trimmed, and she seemed to move with the sureness of old money. Sleek black hair traveled halfway down her back, ending in a perfect razor edge. The uniform covering her frame was crisp and cleanly pressed, indicating at least a _little_ affluence. The shoes on her feet indicated _much_ more than that.

You quirked your brow as she approached, her face blank as she assessed your appearance in turn. What would a rich bitch like _her_ want with someone like _you?_

"So, you can follow orders. Good." Her voice was curt and professional, which almost surprised you. Almost. 

You sucked your teeth and looked her up and down one more time, tapping your fingers on your lunchbox as you waited. 

"You the chick who left me the goth note?" 

She winced at your casual way of speaking, but quickly smoothed her features. 

"Not to speak so crassly, but yes, I am. I have a proposition for you." She pulled up a chair, scooting it closer so that she could properly face you. She delicately perched herself atop it, as though aware of the dust that covered every inch of the old room. 

You took a bite of your lunch, making a short scoffing noise in your throat. 

"I don't do girls, if that's what you're asking, chickie. I may _look_ the part, but that's not in my job description." 

Her cheeks flushed in indignation, losing her cool for a moment as she grit her teeth at you. 

"That's _not_ why I'm here, nyeon!" She quickly composed herself, letting the venom slip back beneath a calm surface. "Ahem. What I mean to say is, I have a list for you." 

She slid a piece of paper across the desk between you, flipping it to face you. There were seven names at first glance, apparently in order of age. Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook. Their names winked at you from the immaculate paper, the ink as dark as ash. 

"Pretty ramshackle assembly you got here. What am I supposed to do with these?" 

"I'm bribing you. You seduce every name on this list, and I pay you more than you could ever imagine." 

You outright snorted at this, glancing back at the list. 

"Impossible. No deal." 

She offered you a wry smirk.

"You haven't even heard a figure yet."

"Doesn't matter, can't be done." You pushed the paper back at her. "It's not like I could catch _any_ of these guys alone. Kim Seokjin is always surrounded by a gaggle of fans, as is Park and Jeon. Min and Jung are always together, stuck like glue. I don't even _know_ how to approach Kim Taehyung, let alone Kim Namjoon. This is a suicide list." 

She shrugged, pursing her lips slightly. 

"Will you at least hear the figure, per each completed task?"

You sat back indulgently, waving your hand for her to continue. She drew out the silence with a sharp smile. 

"Two billion won." 

Okay, your jaw outright dropped. You blinked in shock as she crossed her legs and leaned forward, passing the paper back to you. 

"However, there are some ground rules, of course. You must do each one _individually_ to get paid. This," She handed you a second slip of paper, this one smaller than the first. "Is a list of locations that must be utilized in your seductions. Doesn't matter the order or combination. For all I care, use one location for several guys. Doesn't matter to me. Lastly, you must do this before the end of the semester." 

You blinked, turning your attention to this new piece of information. Poolhouse, Classroom, Theater, Gym. You narrowed your eyes, your inner domme picking up on the challenge she was issuing. 

"You said 2 bil won. Upon completion?" 

"Yes. Each." 

"How am I getting paid?" 

"It will be deposited into the account number on the back of the locations list. It's under your name, so no reason to worry your pretty little head about it." 

You caught the challenge, sliding your narrowed gaze up to hers. She had eyes like a shark's.

"Do I have a name for my... _handler?"_ You emphasized this word, drawing upon it for the ridiculousness of your situation. 

She lost her smile, her expression now dead as she regarded you coldly. 

"You don't need to know my real name. You can call me Kuroi."

"Japanese. Odd pick, but okay." You returned your attention to the papers she'd given you, your mind already beginning to whir at the prospect of what was to come. "How will I contact you if I need you?" 

"I'll know if you need me. I have eyes everywhere." 

Without another word, she rose from her seat and made for the door, not even caring to look back. 

"Wait," You called. She stopped at the door, but didn't turn around. "What's in it for _you?"_

'Kuroi' let out a soft chuckle, dipping her head slightly before she answered. 

"Nothing that concerns you. I have my own reasons, so let's just call this... revenge." 

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you in the dark silence of an empty room. 


End file.
